


In The Matter Of War: Wild Hunts

by Remi_Jenni



Series: In The Matter Of War [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Ancient Chinese gods of constellations, Azure Dragon of the East (東方青龍) Seiryu, Black Tortoise of the North (北方玄武) Genbu, Inspired by Ben-Hur, Inspired by Hellblade, Inspired by Key of Heaven, Inspired by the 100 Years War, Lots of fluff and running gags, Miraculous Wars, Mischief, Plagg's best friend, The first chosens, Vermilion Bird of the South usp(南方朱雀) Suzaku, White Tiger of the West (西方白虎) Byakko, anti-heros, dawn of humanity, human kwamis before they were bound to the miraculous, pre-Miraculous
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 00:29:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16315622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remi_Jenni/pseuds/Remi_Jenni
Summary: Kwami origins. The first chosens.At the dawn of humanity, Genbu - the god of the north - broke apart from the gods that upheld the world, tipping it into unbalance. Now darkness corrupts the hearts of men who seek to obtain the power of the kwamis, going so far as waging wars for them.Azzi's village is raided, leaving her kwami sister, Tikki, missing and on the run from a creature of darkness born of the chaos. With the help of an expelled temple guardian, Plagg, and a runaway named Naavia, Azzi sets out to seal Genbu away with the powers given to her by the gods to save her sister.





	1. Dorian (prologue)

 

 

 **_Some say the world will end in fire,_ **  
**_Some say in ice._ **  
**_From what I've tasted of desire_ **  
**_I hold with those who favor fire._ **  
**_But if it had to perish twice,_ **  
**_I think I know enough of hate_ **  
**_To say that for destruction ice_ **  
**_Is also great_ **  
**_And would suffice._ **

**_\- Robert Frost_ **

 

* * *

 

Azzi loved many things: the sweet aroma of fresh honey bread, the buzzing of early spring, and the roaring of waterfalls. She loved the melodic laugh of her younger sister, the gentle heart of her older brother, and the playful teasing of her older sister. She loved her mother's hopeless resignation of her children's antics, her father's strong hugs, and the purple hue of his disgruntled dragon. She loved her home's exterior heartwood beams, perfect for watching twilight fade to blackness, drawing out the dazzlingly stars of the night sky — a stunning mystery she contemplated each night. She loved the village campfire — the crackle and pop of its damp wood, blowing bursts of bright red sparks towards the heavens. And Azzi loved the crisp mornings when she ran with the hounds past the fields of cabbages, beets, and carrots, ready for another day of sweat-earned training from her weapons master.

 

She never knew you could lose it all that fast.

 

In blood and ash they took them from her, and her screams couldn't stop them.

 

Her heart hollowed by the nightmare that transformed her homeland into a blood-soaked wasteland. Time stood still in Agri Guard; everything grey and silent . . . was it by ash or despair? . . . Azzi couldn't tell anymore. But should the sun rise again, no warmth could breathe life into the rowdy villagers now laying still in haphazard piles.

Stone homes were destroyed to ruble in the dirt, and their straw thatched roofs burnt to wafting ash. The colorful fields, left to crows, became a trodden ruin filled with broken shields, swords, and the dead of the ones that defiled it.

 

How could home...feel so far away?

 

With a will that took over her to move forward, to pack the soil over the holes loved ones now occupied, to pray for their safe passage through Dorian, the passing through life and death, to wash the blood and dirt out from under her chipped nails . . . Azzi prayed to the gods in fierce desperation to find her missing younger sister, the only family she was sure was still alive. "Please, help me find Tikki," she muttered repeatedly until the words weren't recognizable, until her voice died in her throat and her mind knew nothing else.

Through cold currents she surged forward, determined to keep her way. Lost through lands far and desolate, through spasms of sickness and fever, gasping and dry-heaving, she stumbled forward, searching for footprints, broken branches—any sign—until she collapsed in muddy ground.

Scorching sunlight burned behind her eyelids as she lay still, crumpled in on herself. The mud soothed her blistered skin, but she was too terrified to let herself relax for a mere moment. Her heart hammered in her chest at the thought that the moment she lost consciousness, it would all be over. Only one thing gave her reassurance: Azzi expected darkness in death.

She supposed it would be like the nights that dark clouds swallowed the moon and stars, and her older sister, Avvon, tried to scare her with supposed true legends of demons. With an affected voice she had growled tales of a darkness so thick and suffocating people wished to end their own life before the beasts took them. 

On nights pitch-black, Avvon told her the stories of the first gods, the ones who had melted their hearts to form the center of the Earth. She told her how the fragments of their power, their attributes, made their way to the surface of the world. Rarely, a fragment lay close enough to nourish a fruit of the land. If a woman pregnant with child ate it, she would give birth to a babe that embodied the power. Those few came be known as kwamis: little gods. Though still rare, it was more common for a babe to be born when the heart fragment lay deeper down, only drawing a scrap of its true power. Those half-gods, neither human nor kwami, were known as scatterlings: a name Azzi deeply detested. 

[[Mood Music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uPFM9ZYG9fc)]

The memories of Avvon clenched at her heart . . . but she allowed her heart to be filled by them. 

She remembered Tikki's flaming red hair, and the loose tooth that had been playing on her smile as she hung upside down in the cypress tree outside the village elder's home.

She remembered Tikki spinning wool at their mother's side, chatting away about all the bugs she had found with their older brother, Tillian. He had come home with a horrible red welt on his forehead earlier that day, having hoisted Tikki up on his broad shoulders to help her reach a shifty beetle with her net. The position did less to capture the insect, as it did to acquaint the stick end of her net to his skull . . . repeatedly. Avvon joked that his scarlet curls were merely taking over his face.

She remembered the half-earnest, half-humored scolding she has gotten from her father the afternoon she had forgotten her archery lesson and fell asleep on a sun-blessed bale of hay outside the communal barn – she had not stirred even with a cow eating her hair. 

She remembered her mother's amusing plotting to match her older siblings up with wealthy and skilled suitors, and Avvon's purely-coincidental, exceptional catastrophes to said plans. But everyone knew Tillian already had someone he pined for: a blue haired beauty from the distant Dart Forest. Her father had told her that when a man would rather watch a woman than the divine Stars, he would break into stars for her, overcoming any obstacle to make her precious wishes come true.

She remembered watching her two sisters dance among the wild flowers with halos of moonlight adoring their waving red hair. Tillian had relaxed his back against a tall tree and played a sweet melody on his flute. It was a beautiful and hopeful song of his heart. Azzi was sure he created it was for the woman he loved; the women of Dart Forest love to dance. Avvon twirled and lifted Tikki, laughing when her little sister squealed in delight. They wore traditional Agri Guard red dresses, tied up their backs by black lace.

Drifting, Azzi's mind melted into the most recent memory of Tikki's laughing face, grinning with glee when she had caught a larger fish than the rest of her family. The golden warmth of sunset glistened off of the water droplets clinging to her loose strains of hair. Her freckled cheeks matched her hair in her exertion, her smile growing wild through her uneven breaths. 

 

Would she see that smile again?

 

Hot tears made paths down her dust caked cheeks as she lost her battle to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Water lapped against Azzi as she lay on her side, immured in the sleep of the utterly exhausted. Terrible images lived under her eyelids, reliving her worst nightmares and proposing new ones. She saw Tillian and her father ripped apart by the night beast, her mother stabbed through the heart with a bone-carved dagger, she saw Tikki and Avvon impaled on cruel, sharp spears, and the land crumbing into an ocean of blood, a monstrous snake rising out of it . . .

Her heart could take no more of the horror she'd already witnessed, but her mind and body felt like they were constrained by a slab of stone. 

 

Then a gentle warmth touched her eyes.

 

She awoke with a great shudder of relief, and a starburst of light overwhelming her senses. Blinking through watering eyes, she tentatively pushed herself up into a sitting position and searched her soundings. 

[[Mood Music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c7pBcKlONnA&t=20s)]

A roaring column of light stood next to her amid a great, glowing body of shallow water - endless in her sight. 

The surface lay beneath a deep blue sky. Blue, red, and white waves of light swirled in iridescent patterns, circling around the column in slow rounds.

She had never known a greater body of water outside the clear river flowing by the field of her village. She wondered if she was in Watershrine, though, she didn't know how she could have gotten there. Perhaps she could find the Great Guardian and plead for his help . . .

Her gaze followed the column of light towards the sky. She stared in awestruck fascination; the light rippled across the heavens, shimmering like a river on the hottest summer day. Like a mirror, the sky reflected the surface's enchanting formations of light - wondering constellations her heart yearned to know.

With a start, she saw something up there, a beetle . . . who mirrored her movements perfectly - as though she had more than just the wings, but the full body of a blood beetle. She raised her gauntlet clad hands to her face . . . but they looked normal. With a shudder she decided to not look up again. 

The light swirling on the surface played on her bronze skin in stunning patterns. It brought her mind back to the painted silks her mother once bought from the master clothing makers of Dart Forest. Yet with all the brilliant hues and skillful color schemes, the delicate silks could not compare: the sight before her looked like the home of the brightest stars. It felt strangely intimate. Her mother had passed down a deep love of art and beauty to her; sights such as these steadied her heart through turmoil. 

She stood up slowly, her mind working.  _T_ _ikki!_   She gasped. She had to find Tikki!

 

 _You cannot_ , a mesmerizing voice echoed in her mind.

 

Azzi sucked in a sharp breath. Her heart thumped against her chest as she spun on the balls of her feet...but saw no one. Dancing light was all that accompanied her. 

There was a man in her father's village who heard voices in his head...until he followed them off of Two Fang Mountain. Had she accidentally drank some of the possibly magical, definitely suspicious, water?

"Who are you?" She asked with a hesitant shallow breath, eyes darting around her. She heard the croak in her voice and cringed; the fog of her sleep-dulled mind had yet to clear.

 _This is not a dream, Azzi, daughter of Akkon. Nor is your mind troubled. I am Byakko, god of the Western Stars._ The voice was beautiful, sweet as music. 

Azzi's breathing was edged with ragged inhales - desperation for her sanity...

_The kwami of creation has reduced herself to her lowest terms, using all her power to run from the beast. You know of what I speak..._

She felt her stomach drop.

_The creature of darkness...It watches you, waiting for you to led it to her. With an unyielding hunger it waits for the chance to feast on the magic in her heart. It drives it mad. The darkness is coming._

"That  _thing_  is after her?" Azzi's voice scraped like stone, her heart threatening to break through her chest. 

Deep down, she suspected Tikki had done this: masked herself completely, but the idea that that horrific creature was still alive... _following_ her to Tikki...it would have broken her mind to consider it; she was tired of feeling so powerless to help the ones she loved. 

"What do you want?" She asked slowly, eyes still searching for life across the glowing water. Her hands trembled as she walked a few steps through the water—she needed to do  _something_ —there was no resistance in the motion, nor any sound. 

_Your world been cast in darkness. Genbu, god of the north, has broken the divine formation of the stars: Seiryuu - Azure Dragon of the East, Genbu - Black Tortoise of the North, Byakko - White Tiger of the West, and Suzaku - Vermilion Bird of the South._

Sorrow dulled Byakko's beautiful voice. 

 _By leaving this realm, he has released a suffocating darkness upon the world, you have tasted but a_ _drop of it: blood and ichor will fill the oceans, fire will rule the land, the moon will break apart and the sea will swallow the Earth. Humans, kwami, scatterlings, beasts, demons - all will be lost._   _Blood beetle of Agri Guard, there is only one way to save your sister: seal Genbu in Dorian._

Azzi's mouth gaped open, utterly flabbergasted. She wished she could disbelieve him - pass it off as a fever dream - but her core was struck with dreadful certainty: what this voice was saying was true. 

"But...you're a god," she croaked. "Can't you stop him?" 

 _We uphold what remains,_ the god said sternly.  _We cannot leave._

She noticed that white light grew brighter when she heard the voice speaking, as though they were somehow connected. She lost a moment watching a stray wave of it brush past her ankles, enchanted. "What do you want of me?" 

 _You_   _shall find Genbu on the field of battle and you will go to war. The great guardian will seal Genbu away, you are to clear the path for him and come to his aid._

Gods, demons, the end of the world, war...Azzi's mind spun. 

"I may be from Agri Guard, but don't know how to ride a war horse, nor lead in war," she confessed. "I cannot do this thing you speak of. I'm not a servant of the gods; this is so much against my nature. I don't have a pure heart. Hatred and fire course through my veins. I shall see the dark priests watch as their holy city crumbles before them. I shall have my vengeance before I take my last breath in this world." Her words tasted as bitter as poison in her mouth. Drawing in a slow breath, she gazed towards the sky. "But I don't have time for that. My Tikki, my little sister, she is counting on me. I will search the world for her on my hands and knees if I have to."

Frustrated tears burnt behind her eyes.

[[Mood Music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xnAlQGLpnqU&t=6s)]

 _You hold more within you than you know. You are a girl of divine nature. Love for your family has guided your actions. Your soul is made of steel forged through fire and heartache, capable of great determination. You_   _hold the fortitude to look evil in the eye and go to war with it. Help us capture Genbu, and there_   _is nothing you would ask that is beyond the bounds of our power to grant._

 

Inhaling deeply, she got down on one knee - her resolve set. 

 

"Tikki," she said slowly, her voice cradling the name. "Please, keep her safe. Do this, and I vow to serve you."

 _By the powers of the gods, so it shall be._ Byakko vowed in turn.

The white light around her flowed into her heart. She stifled a gasp at the strange sensations; It felt like warm water swimming through her. 

The colomn of light burst, causing her to squeeze her eyes shut. When the glare subsided and she opened her eyes again, a glowing clear sword hovered before her. Five black strips marked the blade before a black leather hilt. Three golden rings looped around its ringed end, accompanied by a black tassel which hung from it like a short tail.

Azzi was used to seeing weapons of all shapes and sizes: maces, bayonets, whips, featherstaffs, spikes, arrows, claymores and daggers, but never had a weapon struck her as beautiful, or filled her heart with warmth. 

 _This is the sacred sword—the heart—of the god of the West. It will serve you as you battle the darkness and reclaim your land. It will strengthen you by your pure intent, and it will destroy you if you use it for ill purpose._  Byakko warned her with a rumbling hum. 

Azzi reached out and gripped the hilt. It felt cool in her grip. Light shined and faded within it with a pulsing heart beat that matched her own untamed heart. She could see through the blade, clear as air, yet it held a weight that reassured her.

_You will not be alone, Azzi of Agri Guard. Find your partners - the guardians of the swords of East and South._

The voice withdrew from her as strange and beautiful as it appeared; the colomn of light dissolved into the rippling sky, breaking apart into countless shimmering stars. Azzi watched in awe and amusement as stray waves of white light on the surface circled her in place of the colomn, the blue and red waves of light keeping to themselves like shy children.

Watching the lights dance, she pondered the old songs of the glory of gods, the ones the elders sing of those who ameliorate the stars, who wrote Earth's history by the winds and waves, carving out caves and eating the land over time. She had known no time and thought could grasp the truth of their great and terrible powers. She had thought of them as unfeeling before, disconnected from the joy and pain of those who walk the Earth, but perhaps, the ones who create flowers know the delicate nature of a beating heart. 

 

* * *

 

Azzi lost herself in thought, staring at the rippling mirror sky, but not quite seeing it.

In a trace, she brought a hand to her chest. The warmth in her heart was still there.

She wondered what Tikki was feeling at that moment, where she was, what she was doing, but banished the thoughts before her mind could come up with dreadful suggestions.

She wasn't sure if she was a step closer to finding Tikki or not, but if Byakko could be trusted she'd be safe until she could. To protect her sister she had to protect someone else, to find her sister she had to find someone else...Azzi couldn't help feel annoyed, but remembering her father chastising her for her lack of patience she sighed heavily. 

A thought struck her hard and sudden. She forgotten to ask Byakkko where she was, or where to go. 

 _Fool!_   She pouted despite herself, and kicked at the water. 

Laughter rumbled behind her. 

 

She spun around to see a large black creature sauntering towards her. 

 

"You're awake," it drawled with a gravelly voice. "I was beginning to think you were dead, beetle-bug."

The beast, in a form of massive cat with striking blue eyes, was made up of black bubbling specks floating around it.

 

She held her new sword in a tight grip, her eyes bright with fire.

"Demon," Azzi hissed through her teeth. 

With speed received through severe training, she crossed their distance of fifteen paces in a second. She brought the blade down in a swift blow. The creature jumped out the way quicker than she could blink. 

"I'm not a demon!" The creature yelped, not swift enough this time. Her blade sliced it above its left shoulder blade.

She gritted her teeth and leapt after it again.

"And the Watershrine's guardian can actually see the future," she snarled. 

"He can! And I'm the guardian of the sacred sword of the Eas—!" he broke off, dodging another vicious attack.

She hesitated, blade suspended in the air. 

"I'm not actually a cat, I'm a normal lad. You actually look like a giant blood beetle." the cat rushed, muscles wound up to leap at a moment's notice. 

Azzi looked back to the sky seeing her own strange reflection, only now she could also see the faint reflection of a boy with long white hair. She stared back at the cat, mystified. The previously shy blue light slowly swirled around him now that he was still.

"Of course you'd make my partner a monster cat." She mumbled. 

"Are you talking to yourself?" His voice was edged with amusement. 

"No," she said with great dignity, "I'm talking to the demon king."

"That's even weirder!" The large cat collapsed in a fit of laughter. "Wha— what are you," he wheezed between laughs, "a follower or something?"

"No!" Azzi spluttered, her cheeks flaming. "He plays favourites!"

"Right, right," he agreed gently. 

She was glad he couldn't see her pouting in this odd form of hers, Avvon and Tikki loved to tease her for it.

"Where are we?" she is gestured to the mirroring sky and endless water.

Recovering himself, he stood up. "This is Dorian. The land of light, but more commonly known as the land between life and death." 

"This is _Dorian?_   Am I  _dead?!_ " She shrieked, raking her hands down her face. 

"Easy beetle-bug, sensitive hearing," he whined, padding a paw over a twitching ear.

"Sorry," Azzi said quietly, restraining her barrage of questions.

"No, you're not dead. You're sleeping. We're bound to this realm by the gods, when we sleep in our world, we wake up here."

Azzi nodded, then wondered if her—somehow—demon form showed the same action. "What was it you said when you first spoke to me? You thought I was dead?"

"To be asleep here is not a good sign." His voice was neutral, but something in it told her he didn't want to elaborate.

Silence settled between them for a time, filled by her staring at the water rippling against her scuffed boots, and him gazing across the water like he knew the mysteries of the universe - perhaps he did.

"How's your shoulder?" She asked softly, looking him over. His clear blue eye met hers.

"I'll know when I wake up." 

"I'm sorry."

 

Something about her arms caught her eye. With a gasp, realized her body was transparent, fading away.

 

"It's alright," he said gently. "You're waking up."

 

"Azzi!" she blurted, unable to see herself anymore. "My name's Azzi!"

"Payyce," she heard, as if from underwater. 

 

* * *

  

Cold mud greeted her senses, along with a stiff, pained body, and the smell of dirt and sweat. With great and careful effort she pushed herself up, inspecting her wounds. She looked like a bruised fruit. 

"Payyce," she echoed in a trance.

 _A dream,_  she mused. A dream? She struggled to recall one. She grasped at her memory, but found nothing to reach out to.

Something dug into her leg. She shifted awkwardly to reach out and inspect it. It was heavy, and fit in her hand perfectly.

A gorgeous clear sword. Was it there when she collapsed?

She was too tired and disorientated for questions.

 

She knew only one thing...

 

 

[[Mood Music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UL3aflGKNjw)]

 

 _Tikki..._ she thought wistfully. _Wait for me little sis._  


	2. The Bizarre Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plagg is Plagg, Naavia is a darling, and Azzi is uhhh...

 

**_It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair._ **

**_― Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities_ **

 

* * *

 

 

~ 5 YEARS LATER ~

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dusk settled with a soft brush of pink on the horizon as Azzi walked down the lesser traveled Newsoul Valley-Agri Guard highway with a skip in her step, and a cheerful jingle of coins at her hip. Her latest escort had given her a large bonus after the other bodyguard in their party fled at the sight of a drunk man with foam in his beard—not that she entirely blamed him—even the most hulking man avoided the scourge plague, like, well, the plague. It was a recent disease, one that rots the mind and gives one abnormal powers fed by vices. Sometimes it wasn't easy to identify; which made her job of body guarding travelers slightly stressful since they tended to jump into her arms at every passer by with shifty eyes. It didn't concern her, her blood beetle nature loved a fight.

There was still a chill in the air for spring; ice still clung to the Azure river of the outskirts of South-East Agri Guard, the place she had once called home. As with most villages with a slaughtered people, the village became a new home to wanderers. Though it became a somewhat beautiful place again, rebuilt and farmed, she couldn't bring herself to go back—not until she could go back with Tikki. 

She took up the trade of bodyguard to gather information across the land, but so far all her leads came to nothing. Azzi did her best to stay hopeful and undeterred. She would find her. She knew she would.

She still had a ways to go until she was back at the North Agri Guard tavern, her home from home. The middle age couple who owned it agreed to take her in in exchange for cooking and cleaning. It was a wonderful arrangement and she grew to love them as family. The tavern was named The Bizarre Cat. The owner, a 50 year old drunk named Dally, couldn't remember why he chose the name, because as one might expect: he was drunk. 

Azzi found a clear spot a short ways off the dusty road and made a fire. She would settle here for the night. As the sparks licked up the tinder she let out a relieved sigh, holding her hands out to the glorious warmth. She loved nights like this; the crackling of fire under a canopy of stars. Something about them teased her memory, but her thoughts slipped out of reach whenever she got close. It was frustrating, like they whispered of a world she ought to know, but she couldn't help how her eyes drifted upward each night, praying to the four Divine Stars for Tikki's safety.                                                                                                                                                                                                                        
She pulled her fur cloak from her leather bag and draped it over herself. She buried her nose in the soft, musty fur and sighed contently. Years of travel taught her how to sleep in the most awkward of positions; her most preferred way was to sleep sitting up with her sword at her back. It was a fine blade, one she had named Byakko - a name that came to mind soon after she found it. It was beautiful, looking like transparent crystal, and sounding like music when swung. It looked mismatched from her own appearance; with wildly curled scarlet hair, a black circlet, red eyes, bronze skin, armor, a crisscrossing jingle belt, callused hands, and boiled leather boots, one might expect her to carry a crudely forged dagger, yet no one could deny it was hers when she welded it with such grace and precision. 

As sleep called she put out the fire with sand and nodded off to the hoot of owls and the rustling of leaves in the wind.

 

* * *

 

"How am I suppose to meet the Great Guardian if I can never remember anything when I wake up?" Azzi moaned. She sat in the glowing waters of Dorian, a place of peace her heart took refuge in. The white light of the White Tiger Byakko—her guardian of sorts—swirled around her in the starry water as she drew random patterns on the glowing surface. As always, the ripples shone across the enchaining mirror of the sky.

"It is a setback." Payyce admitted. The large black cat sat beside her, waving his tail absentmindedly. While his true form could be vaguely seen reflected in the sky—a lean build with long white hair—she knew he wasn't comfortable with her looking.

"It's the will of the demon king!" Azzi gasped. 

His azure blue eyes sparkled as he chuckled. "I don't think there is a demon king." 

"There is," she whispered loudly. "You just don't believe he exists because you're his favourite." She stretched her arms out of habit. Her body felt weightless here.

"I don't think so," he scoffed. "I can't remember anything either."

He looked at her warily. "How did you latest search go? Any leads on your sister?" 

Her smile wilted. "None."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah well, it's not over y—" she broke off. His massive feline form was fading away.

"Sorry Beetle-Bug," he said with a short flourish of his tail, "the rooster calls."

"Goodbye." She murmured to the bright blue light that circled the space he left.

Payyce was...a mystery. He never told her what he did for work—never told her anything personal other than his name, which she at times wondered was even real. Yet, his gentle heart felt like a place she'd known forever. No matter what she went through he comforted and encouraged her through it. They had their differences; she loved terrible jokes, making up silly songs, and playing matchmaker to random people she encountered. He loved the tales of bards, cooking, and cleaning - for some unfathomable reason. She suspected he could read and write - a rather rare skill in the land; boys might have been educated, but not girls. She could neither read nor write, instead she learnt about the tending of farm animals and combat against would-be thieves. She imagined him as a teacher of some kind, who spent his days burying his nose in musty old scrolls and arguing the causes and cures of the scourge plague. The image suited him.

"Do you know what he does?" She asked the swirling blue light of Payyce's guardian, the Azure dragon of the east, Seiryu.

Nothing. She sighed and splashed water over it. Its swirling halted and turned in her direction. With a giggle she faded with the beckoning of dawn. 

 

* * *

 

Azzi's stomach growled as The Bizarre Cat came into view. Each gravelly crunch of her footsteps sang a song of breakfast, which she hummed along to. 

The small tavern was easy to spot, painted with the customary red paint of the country of Agri Guard. Each country followed the same custom: a uniform color painted on public places like taverns, inns and shops. Purple was the color in Newsoul Valley, orange for Two Fang Mountain, yellow for Point Pollen, blue for Dart Forest, black for Zinc Catacombs, and green for Watershrine. Azzi suspected it originated due to the hair colours of people in the regions, though, she didn't know why people were named after the first letter of the kingdom they were born in. The custom was rarely ignored and made going to new places very confusing since the names all sounded the same. 

Azzi stood before The Bizarre Cat with a huge grin spread across her face. The paint was curling back and the door hinges were rusted by age. Swaying and creaking in the wind, was a black chain-hung sign in the shape of a cat's sitting silhouette. She had hung that sign herself after the previous one blew off in a violent storm. She preferred this one; the previous cat looked too small somehow—

The red doors began to blur and warp in her vision, like the Earth was tilting to the left. A freezing shiver washed over her from head to toe, spiking the short hairs on her arms and the nape of her neck.

 _Don't turn around._   _Stay still. Stay quiet,_  a voice whispered quickly in her mind. 

Shock and confusion sucked the air from her lungs. Had she caught the scourge?

Palms clammy with sweat, she slowly curled her fingers around the hilt of Byakko. It vibrated lightly under her touch.  

 

A heavy, wet, thump sounded close behind her. 

 

She squeezed her eyes shut so hard it hurt. 

 _Who are you?_  She asked in thought, slow and hesitant. Something nagged her memory, but she didn't have the time to contemplate it. Her whole body began to shake. When she manged to inhale again, an overpowering stench bowled her over. Her knees buckled to the ground, sending a sharp jolt of pain up her spine.

Another thump drew closer, then another, growing louder that her racing heart beat.

Large drawn out inhales and breathy exhales accompanied a dripping of something unbearably putrid, consuming everything around it.

Her mind was playing tricks on her—it had to be that—after all it been some time since she last drank water, all the while traveling for days with little rest.

Heart pounding, Azzi gritted her teeth and ignored the voice. Before she could hesitate she griped her blade tight, twisting her body around as her eyes flew open—unsheathing her sword in one fluid motion. 

 

There was...nothing there, just the long dirt road she was just walked, lined with trees swaying wildly from a rush of howling wind.

 

Her gaze slowly dropped to the ground. Large splashes of blackish bubbling...blood? trailed down the path she had walked. 

Her body spasmed in disgust.

 _The darkness follows you,_ a silvery voice echoed faintly from the recesses of her mind—that nagging memory back.

Her mind was spinning too fast. She stumbled her way around the side of the tavern before doubling over, throwing up in nearby shrubbery. A passing breeze cooled the clammy sweat on her neck, making her unpleasantly aware that her hair was plastered around it. She straightened up warily, pulling it away with dull irritation. 

When Azzi turned back around to the entrance the blood was gone.  _I'm going crazy_ , she decided with finality. Inhaling a shuddering breath, she looked around herself once more; she studied the thick shadows around the trees, the leaves rustling against themselves high in the branches, the birds hopping around and taking off—nothing out of the ordinary could make her believe she had experienced something so disturbing just moments before. 

She shook her thoughts away like old cobwebs and pushed her trembling hands against the tavern's great oak doors, swinging them open with a loud, creaking groan.

The familiar scents of floor wax, ale, Dally's indigestible cooking—and a number of other smells she preferred not to dwell on—greeted her with a warm embrace. Her eyes glazed over the mismatched tables and chairs, the sticky gleam of the lacquered hardwood floor, the dirty mop leaning against a bar stool, and a dark haired fellow slumped over the bar counter, groaning like a dying man. 

She couldn't see Dally or his wife Alee, who actually ran the tavern. Though there are usually more customers at the end of a day, it was unusually quiet this morning, but her disoriented mind was grateful for it.

Her boots clacked against the hardwood floor to the bar. Curious, she peered over the man; he had a mug of fermented mare's milk and a pewter bowl of...a murky substance. She cringed with pity—another poor casualty of Dally's experimental recipes. 

"Oh! Good morning miss!" A young woman she had never met before peaked out from the kitchen side of the bar. "What can I get you? Are you okay? You look a little pale..." She trailed off, gazing at her with a soft look of concern. Azzi smiled despite herself; the girl had a delicate beauty—a young, slender figure with light bronze skin. She wore a long blue top, a small lemony corset that belled out slightly at the top and bottom, and a yellow-stripped green cloth tied around her head that extenuated her braided purple hair that hung over her shoulder. She reminded Azzi of a colourful butterfly, whose appearance and gentle demeanor seemed out of place in the grungy tavern.

"I'm...fine, thank you," Azzi tried to convince herself too. "From Newsoul Valley?" She asked, hopping onto a bar stool.

"Yes..." the girl hesitated slightly, setting a large plate of cheese in front of the man with a clunk. "I guess it's only natural that I'd stand out here." 

"A little," Azzi smiled. "Can I please get water, a bread roll, and bacon burnt black?" She asked over the gurgle of her stomach. The girl giggled and left for the kitchen.

"Are you the Devil?" A weak voice came from the young man two stools beside her. He looked aghast. "Who burns food?"

"Depends who you ask," she grinned wickedly. He barely spared her a glance before thumping his head back on the table.

He had black hair—a trademark of Zinc Catacombs. Even after five years that hair color still made her uneasy; it dragged her mind back to that day when the dark priests of Zinc Catacombs attacked her village in the dead of night, swift as shadows. It had been some time since she let go of her prejudice towards that kingdom, but her heart was healing.

"Wow," she tilted her head. "Dally sure surpassed himself with you."

"No," his voice was muffled, face flat on the counter. Without looking he raised a shaking finger in the direction the girl disappeared to. "It was her," he drew out the words with a moan.

Azzi whistled low, slyly reaching for the cheese on the counter. Her hand was smacked away immediately.

"Get your own cheese, ya evil woman!" The dying man found the strength to glare at her while he pulled the plate protectively towards himself.

She chuckled and gazed him over. He had light brown skin, a dark green quilted cloak from the Turtle tribe of Watershrine that rested just passed his knees, sharp buckled boots and golden armlets from the Bee tribe of Point Pollen, as well as his hair style: worn in hip-length long thick braids that reminded Azzi of a tail. They were tied at the back by multiple gold rings—all in all, an unusual combination. He had stunning bright green eyes...that were looking right at her. 

"Can I helf ew?" He said around a mouth full of cheese, looking rather bemused.

"Where are you from?" She asked hesitantly, a little embarrassed to be caught staring.

"Point Pollen," he said after swallowing loudly. She quirked an eyebrow at that. 

"But you..." her thoughts trailed off as her eyes drifted towards his hair.

"I was adopted," he added, reaching for the last piece of cheese, his tone sounding like he didn't care if she believed him or not.

"Then I become a temple guardian in Watershrine." He stared at the counter.

She hummed, following his stare to a tiny crumb of cheese remaining on his plate. 

"You can have that," he pointed to it with an angelic face and a sparkle in his eyes that read:  _I am so generous._

Azzi chuckled under her breath and ate it for kicks. The man assumed an air of mellow satisfaction. 

"I thought temple guardians don't leave the temple."

"I was...expelled—"

"Ooo! What did you do?" A high voice interrupted. The purple haired girl fluttered back from the kitchen with a smoking black plate, a mug, and a smile glowing on her face. She set the plate down in front of her with a soft sizzle.

Azzi opened her mouth and closed it again. How can someone burn something right through the plate? 

A tremor shook her hands slightly as she reached for the mug of water the girl had set down besides the plate and a tall clay jug. She drank it all once, her throat too dry and dirty from throwing up to pace it out. 

"You're lucky we still had bacon," the girl said airily. "There seems to be a shortage at the moment." 

Azzi hummed in appreciation and picked up a piece while the barmaid turned to the man.

"Can I get you more soup mister Rag?" She asked.

Azzi laughed into her arm, trying and failing to play it off as a cough.

"N-no thank you," the man choked out, face draining of all colour, "and the name's Plagg."

"My apologies," she said earnestly, bowing her head slightly. Azzi admired her sincerity—not knowing when she last met anyone with it. She wondered idly how someone so gentle survived the journey here. 

"If you don't mind my asking," Azzi said, biting into the charred bacon, "what are you doing so far from home?" 

The girl promptly placed her hands over her heart and drew in a slow breath. Azzi and Plagg raised an eyebrow in unison.

"I want to marry a rich man!" She declared, voice fierce with conviction. Azzi choked on her bacon.

"Uh..." Plagg began, thumping her back. "Aren't the richest people in Newsoul Valley? Gold and jewel miners? Silk farmers? Granary owners?"

"I...I don't want to go back there." The girl's voice shrunk to a whisper, her eyes on the floor. 

Azzi looked sideways at Plagg through watering eyes, her hacking slowly subsiding. She would have apologized for asking, but a booming voice interrupted her. 

"Azzi!" Dally greeted from the back before the giant of a man appeared before her. He was more beard than face, with windswept long blue hair, a tall, wide build, a beer belly and a smell like mixed spices that lingered on his skin. He wore the same deep blue tailed coat she had seen on him when they met at the nearby well, but his shirt and trousers were the traditional red of Agri Guard, his home since leaving Dart Forest to live with his dear wife, Alee. She towered over everyone but her husband, but possessed a gentle warmth one may not expect from her burly appearance; the women of Agri Guard are known to be fierce, great warriors who did not allow men in the city. Any boys born to them were sent to live with their fathers, creating alliances with different tribes. Like Dally and Alee, her family had lived on the outskirts to live with her brother and father. If only they were in the city that night...

"Nice to see you too, old man!" She gave him a toothy grin before he thumped his fist lightly over her head.

"When will you learn respect?" Dally shook his head, but the corners of his bearded mouth betrayed his sentiment.

The girl twirled back to the kitchen, Dally's blue eyes following Azzi's gaze on her. "Naavia here has been helping us out for the past fortnight," he lowered his gruff voice to a conspiring whisper, "She's the worst hire I've ever made, but she needed the help." Azzi nodded her head slowly. It was usual for someone so young—espically from that country—to be alone so far from home. And even more unusual for Dally to not be slurring his words completely sloshed, even for the morning, but she soon learnt why.

"I've been waiting for you," Dally murmured leaning in—the smell of spice stronger, "Alee is missing," his deep voice broke.

Azzi felt her heart drop to her stomach. Alee, nearly the height of her husband, could break up any bar fight, knocking any hefty man out with little trouble. No one could keep her from her Dally, no matter how hopeless her husband could be at times. She had become something of a mother figure to Azzi, kind and strong, she couldn't bare the thought of losing another one.

"I last saw her Tuesday a fortnight past, an hour after closing," the large man exhaled slowly. "I hired Naavia in part to watch the tavern while I searched for her. No one around here has seen any sign of her. I've been doing all I can to stay hopeful until you could help." He pointed his thumb over his shoulder towards the living quarters behind him. "I'll tell you more after you settle down."

She nodded solemnly, the bar stool scraping back as she stood. She took out a leather coin purse with a dense jingle and placed a small shiny gold coin on the counter. Expression unreadable, Plagg shifted in his stool, finishing off his drink. 

Azzi tore a mouthful out of her roll and swung her leather bag over her shoulder, walking towards the back of the tavern. Her mind flashed back to whatever happened outside, the _thing_  she may have encountered. Could it be real? Had it attacked Alee? She shoved the thought away and made her way to her room.

Spiral stone steps led the way to a long corridor of numerous faded oak doors. The floor of the passage was covered by a horrid dusty old yellow carpet Azzi's hands longed to set fire to. The furthest door to the left of it was hers. Discouraging herself off the impulse, she twisted the brass knob and pushed the heavy door open with the end of her boot.

The small room hit her–as she reluctantly anticipated given the length of her absence—with the strong smell of dust, straw, and stale air. Thin beams of light shone from the cracks of closed wooden windows, illuminating the dust floating in the air. Azzi squinted in the dimly lit room, moving slowly to open the windows. She had to carefully push a few times before the hinges budged, swinging them open to lung full of fresh, cool air.

The light shone across the small room consisting of only a single straw-lined bed covered by graying white sheets, a small side table, and a narrow wardrobe. Any candle sticks she once had had been moved in her absence to supply other guest rooms. Her room held no knick-knacks, nothing one might expect to see in an occupied room, but she was rarely there and lost everything she had once treasured.    

Finishing the last mouthful of her roll, she dropped her bag on her bed with a feeling in her heart of home—of returning to someplace she could call a home. A warm smile soften her face as she returned to the window for a desire to bask in the peace. From the second floor she could see the gorgeous view of the beautiful farms nearby. Rows of bright yellow canola lined the rolling green hills. A large field next to it grew fruits and vegetables, another field stretched for miles over with a few grazing sheep, goats, and cows. The smell of manure reached her faintly, but she couldn't say she minded it much. It brought back the memories of a rural childhood and happy days. A memory came to mind: Avvon was chasing her, Tikki, and Tillian with a shovel full of it. Tikki tripped so Tillian sacrificed himself to shield her. Avvon hadn't meant to actually throw it, but Tillian made himself such a tempting target Avvon couldn't resist. No one could stand to be near his awful stink for sometime after. The memory brought a soft chuckle and a fond smile to her face.

Leaning over the windowsill, she could see the vines of ivy crawling up to her window, twined with year-round purple flowers that gave off a soft, sweet scent. A tiny little ladybug flew onto her windowsill, making itself at home. "Hello there, friend." Azzi cooed, reaching out her finger slowly. Its wings fluttered before buzzing onto it. She brought it to her eye level and gave it a soft smile. It had glossy bright orange wings and small black spots not too unlike her own when out. She giggled at the ticklish sensation it gave her as it walked up her arm adventurously. She could see a small green blur in her peripheral vision, drawing her curiosity. She glanced at it and screamed—terror scraping her voice raw.

She tripped scrambling back, her head hitting the wall with a  _blinding_  thump. After a few moments Plagg burst into her room slightly off balance, the door swinging into the wall with a deafening bang.

"What? What happened?" He shouted, the whites of his eyes seeming to glow green as he scanned the room wildly. Startled, all she could do was stare from him, quickly back to the windowsill, her face a peculiar portrait of fear. Dally reached them a few moments later out of breath. He glanced from Azzi to her arrow-focused stare on a bug perched on the windowsill...and sighed heavily. Plagg made an impatient sound at the back of his throat and stared at him for an explanation. 

"She's afraid of praying mantises." Dally cringed as way of an apology.

"Great Guardian's foot fungus!" Plagg threw his arms up. "I thought you were being murdered!" He strode over to the window and flicked the bug away hard enough to see it fade into the distance.

"T-thank you," Azzi said short of breath, rubbing the back of her head with a wince. 

"Are you any good with that, son?" Dally asked. Azzi frowned, looking for what he was referring to. Plagg, she had not noticed, had a glaive griped in his left hand. It was beautifully menacing: the pole was patterned like green marble and carved like jade into intricate designs Azzi couldn't make out. It was tipped with an ink black blade, morning light gleaming off of it to a long, sharpened point. Judging from his balanced grip, he knew how to use it too.

"I am," Plagg's lips curled to one side in a sly grin. Dally hummed in thought, thickly-haired brow furrowed in appraising the young man.

"Good," he decided with a nod, folding his massive arms in front of him. "If you can find my wife, I will give you a handsome reward."

"As it happens sir, I am a bounty hunter," Plagg drawled, free hand idly caressing the weapon, "and my prices aren't cheap."

"As it happens," Dally echoed, "you have a bounty on your head, and this girl is a bounty hunter."

Plagg turned to Azzi whose eyebrows went up, thoroughly confused. 

"Technically," Naavia said softly, startling Azzi from behind. "I  _was_  a bounty hunter. It didn't work out for some reason..." her voice trailed off as she stood awkwardly at the threshold of the door, Azzi—arguably concussed—gawking at her for that revelation. 

"So, what  _did_  you do to get yourself  expelled and wanted?" Naavia inquired, ignoring Azzi's open mouthed stare.

"I-I uh stole a uh...sacred scroll and I uh...lost the temple's gold in a back alley betting ring," Plagg waffled, eyes firmly fixed on the view outside the window, his face paling in the sunlight. 

"Uh huh." Naavia deadpanned.

"Been thurrr." Azzi slurred with a self-satisfied grin...definitely concussed. 

 

* * *

 

By the time Azzi could think clearly the sun had begun to set with a vibrant mix of pink and orange, and a smell pungent enough to scare away a demon wafted from the kitchen. 

After kicking Dally and Naavia out of the poor kitchen and tossing their probable sacrifice to the Demon King down a hole in the latrine, a small feast of hearty food filled the dinning hall despite the fact that Plagg was the only patron there for the night—given the earlier smell she could guess why. Dally insisted the generous spread was for Azzi's return, but any old goat would know he was just relieved to eat decent food again.

The glow of wall torches and lanterns bathed the stone walls, oak tables, and ceiling beams in warm golds and rich browns. With some convincing, Plagg joined them at the center table. Vegetable stew, cheese, grain, and bread rolls filled their plates, and ale their tankards.

After settling Naavia down from her fusing about with the dishes, Azzi returned from the kitchen with cheese for herself that she had made two months previous. A scant feet from the table, her boot caught on a loose plank, jerking the plate forward. A large piece rolled across the table into the eager hands of a cheese man.

He tossed it in his mouth with a devious grin.

"Demon King!" Azzi cried, slumping into her seat.

"It chose me as its master." Plagg shrugged. 

Naavia chuckled softly, helping herself to a second ladle of stew. "It's a shame there's no more meat," she frowned slightly, "mister Dally has told me of how your roast chicken and lamb could make a man die happy."

Azzi's eyes—silently declaring war on the dairy loving outlaw nonchalantly eating his stew–softened under her dreamy gaze. 

"He exaggerates terribly," Azzi laughed. "Anything tastes like food for a king after you've had his fatal gruel," she grinned, ducking the soft smack he sent her way.

"Ungrateful girl," Dally muttered reaching for a bread roll. "Still...there's no meat to be had now. Farmer Arro can't slaughter another animal without thinning the breeding stock."

"Is this the work of thieves or," Plagg placed his spoon on the table, "perhaps, demons?" His eyes seemed to shift into dark slits, but appeared normal when Azzi blinked again.

An odd flicker of candle light?

"Well," Naavia scooted her seat back, "I wish to wake early tomorrow morning so please excuse me. Thank you for the wonderful meal miss Azzi, it was delicious. Lovely to meet you and mister Plagg." 

"Goodnight," Azzi and Plagg chorused.

"Of course my dear, sleep well." Dally smiled happily at her. 

When Naavia disappeared up the stairs Dally turned to Azzi, "You see that? That's good manners," he nodded with a sigh, sounding like he was to be praised for her agreeable nature.

They spent the next hour downing three flagons while listening to Dally's animated story of how farmer Arro lost his remaining tooth while Azzi was away—which she cursed for missing—and the hour after singing made up songs and falling out of their seats.

Plagg announced he would retire to his room and after some time spent in contemplative silence—or maybe just a headache stupor–Azzi did the same. 

 

* * *

 

Sleep didn't come easily; the best she had was a semi-lucid dream with pigs and cattle charging ahead of her after Alee. She could see the tall woman's broad back and the cloak she wore bellowing out behind her as she ran. Though she couldn't see her, she knew Tikki was ahead, too far to ever catch up. She was always too far, but that didn't stop her from trying. She ran besides the livestock. A pig she caught up with said something to her too soft to understand. Its foot reached out for her arm.

"Ow! Wake up." 

Azzi awoke with a great gasp and sweat cold from the open window. Her limbs were taunt, restricted from movement. She turned her head to see Plagg right in her face, his emerald eyes lit by moonlight. He was holding her arms tightly.

"You're crushing my hand!" he whisper-shouted, looking pointedly at the death-grip she seemed to have on him.

She released it with a shuddering breath. "What are you doing here?" She hissed, pulling the sheets up. 

"You were yelling in your sleep...also snoring like the Great Guardian after a feast of eight ducks, a turtle, and a boar," he shuddered with such a cringe, Azzi mentally noted to never meet the man. 

"It's not that bad," she protested, sitting up.

"Debatable," he grumbled with shadows under his eyes.

Noticing the coin purse she had on her bedside table, he took out a small gold coin before Azzi snatched the purse away with a curse and a huff. Dismissively, he held it up to the moonlight, entranced. "Shiny," he whispered, awe sparkling in his voice.

"But if I had to say," he went on, twirling the coin between his fingers, "I'd blame my tragically disturbed slumber on Tikki."

Her sleepy rouge eyes flew wide open, her heart leaping out her chest. "What did you say?" She whispered, words so fragile they could dissolve in the air.

"Tikki..." He looked at her oddly, "You were calling for 'Tikki.' Is that a rare, exotic, expensive cheese? You strike me as the sort of person who would yell for it in her sleep."

Azzi rubbed her eyes, inhaling a deep, deep shuddering breath. 

"My sister."

"Huh?"

"Tikki is my sister." She looked out the window. A gap in dark clouds showed a thin slice of the moon, but the stars were hidden behind the thick cloak of fluff. The sight made her feel ill. She considered the sight of the Divine Stars good fortune and the absence of them the time of the Devil's will.

"Where is she now?" Plagg's voice broke her from her dreary thoughts.

"I don't know." The words were dry and hollow in her mouth.

"Is she much like you?"

"No," she melted into a smile despite herself, her eyes settled on her hands. "She's sweet, kind and gentle, smart—"

 _Its here_ , a familiar silvery voice echoed through her mind.

A faint wet thump came from below. Azzi leapt up, half hanging out the window. That nauseating smell from earlier suddenly carried on the winds of the night air, as though someone had just emptied the contents of a latrine below her window. Plagg wrinkled his nose with a moan of disgust. It was too dark to be utterly sure, but her eyes caught the sight of a figure moving.

It wasn't all her imagination!

Without an explanation she grabbed Byakko from the side of her bed and burst through the door, charging through the corridor—

and smack into something...

...that yelped when they crashed to the dusty floor.

"Naavia?" She asked gingerly, sorry despite her urgent haste.

"Miss Azzi?" The young girl's soft voice replied. They were a tangle of limbs and surely a bunch of bruises. "What are you doing up at this hour?" 

"Sorry, I don't have time to answer. Please stay here." Azzi got to her feet with dizzying speed, unbolting the great big crossbar on the front door before Naavia stood up straight.

Azzi pulled her night gown over her head and tossed it to ground. The wind chilled the exposed flesh uncovered by the light armor she kept underneath her garments. 

She took a deep breath of the putrid air and closed her eyes in concentration. Orange-red blood beetle wings the length of her body unfurled from her exposed back with a soft glow of orange-pink light. When her eyes opened, they were glowing the same colour, helping her see through the darkness of night's veil. She felt the strength in her body pulsing through her with the urge to take flight.

The smell was retreating and she wasn't going to let the _thing–_ whatever it was–get away; she kicked off, taking flight towards the moon and landing gently on a beam of the thatched roof of the tavern. There were several large pools of deep red liquid below—blood, she guessed, enough to fill a cow.

A quiet rustle of straw came from behind her, almost covered by the wind.

Almost.

"Woah!" A cat-earred Plagg raised his clawed hands in surrender before the sharp clear edge of Byakko. 

"So," he began airily, slitted irises taking her in, "you're a scatterling."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading ;3


	3. Important

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Announcement

Because of reasons I'm deleting this work and reuploading a rewritten version of this to my new account that is more accessible to me. I've had a lot of problems with plot holes which is why it's taken so long to update. I've hopefully fixed in this new version. If you're subscribed to this work please leave a comment and I'll let you know what's up before I delete this work within the week.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm totally new to writing, so I'd greatly appreciate any feedback. <3


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